


Berserkers Don't Get Sick

by Jettara1



Category: Dragons Race to the Edge, Dreamworks Dragons, How to Train Your Dragon - Fandom
Genre: Family, Flu, Fluff, caring for one another, poor Dagur, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 19:18:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12941946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jettara1/pseuds/Jettara1
Summary: Dagur is under the firm belief that Berserkers don't get sick.  But after an off handed joke to Hiccup, who is suffering from his annual cold, Dagur quickly learns that Berserkers do indeed get sick, not that he'll ever willingly admit to such a thing.  Now with fever, he's trying to care for his brother, but maybe he needs someone to care for him.





	Berserkers Don't Get Sick

Berserkers Don’t Get Sick

Short fluff. Takes place a few months after Dagur joins Hiccup and the riders. Pretty much Dagur trying to be a good big brother, acting like a dad, and getting bit on the ass for his efforts.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dagur demanded, his voice taking on that nerve wrecking high pitch that grated on Hiccup’s nerves.

It had been months since Dagur had switched sides and ended the war between the Hooligans and Berserkers. He had even become a Dragon Rider (not officially part of the group but there was no telling him that, as far as he was concerned he was one of them, if only honorary.) And other than the odd ups and downs, things had gone pretty smoothly. Dagur was usually off chiefing his own tribe and finally taking the job seriously, although Hiccup was certain it was mainly due to Heather giving him a poke in the right direction. His anger issues were pretty much under control through intensive meditation and long walks when he couldn’t sit still long enough to focus inward. But from time to time Dagur just got all Dagur again and Hiccup was never sure if he was going to be pulled into a crushing hug or facing the business end of a broad sword. It seemed in this case he was faced with something far worse.

Big brother Dagur.

“It’s below freezing and you’re sitting in a hot spring while sniffling with what I’m guessing is the beginning of a cold,” the Berserker chieftain reprimanded, standing at the edge of the natural spring.

Steam wafted into the crisp air but Hiccup felt anything other than cold. For once he felt pretty warm for an early winter morning. “It’s fine, Dagur. I’m sweating it out. By tomorrow the cold will be gone and I can focus on dealing with Viggo and Krogan.”

The elder male stared at him in shock before shaking his head and then pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a frustrated sigh. “You and Heather are impossible,” he muttered to himself with a huff of annoyance. “Get out of there and get home where it’s warm AND dry.”

Annoyance filled Hiccup as well. “Dagur, I’m perfectly fine taking care of myself.”

Dagur’s eyes narrowed. “I see that. Go home.”

“Forget it.”

“GO. HOME.”

Hiccup glared at him for a moment before moving. A smile lit Dagur’s face but it was short lived when his little brother decided to move deeper into the hot water and further from him.

“Hiccup!” the Berserker objected.

The Hooligan heir shot him a glare before settling on a ledge and lounging in the steamy water. A content smile lifted his lips.

“Don’t make me get Astrid,” Dagur warned, his frown deepening.

“Go for it,” Hiccup teased. “I’m sure she’ll be up to joining me.”

Hiccup was sure he went too far when Dagur gave a frustrated yell. He cracked open an eye, ready to duck if the Berserker threw something at him. He knew firsthand the Berserker chief had more than a dozen throwing knives hidden on his herself. He waited a moment then decided it was better not to push his luck. He was about the climb out when Dagur suddenly jumped in, clothes, armor and all.

“What are you doing?” the younger of the two asked in shock when Dagur surfaced.

The Berserker glared at him and sat against the ledge. He folded his large arms over his chest and looked away, obviously not happy.

Guilt hit Hiccup in the gut hard. He hadn’t meant to provoke Dagur. He was still trying to figure out all of the other man’s trigger – and there were a lot. He just wasn’t ready to get out of the hot water yet. They sat in silence for a long time, Dagur angry, Hiccup unsure what to say. After a moment Hiccup gave in.

“Sorry,” he told Dagur, his shoulders falling. “I’m still getting used to us being friends again.”

Dagur glanced at him before letting out his breath slowly. “Me too,” he agreed. He wiped his brow. “It is hot in here.

“Especially with all your clothes and armor on,” the younger boy teased then bit his lower lip and looked away. “Isn’t your armor a little…ah heavy in the water?” Not to mention the fact the Dagur was pretty much cooking himself by wearing it.

The Berserker glanced down at his chest plate thoughtfully before unclipping the sides and pulling it over his head to throw on a small snow pile. The rest of his armor slowly joined it. “It was getting a little too hot with that on,” he joked, leaning back against the ledge. “Okay, I get why you wanted to relax in the hot spring, but you’re going to catch a chill flying back to Dragon’s Edge. You already have the sniffles, it’s not like the riders need their ‘oh so fearless’ leader down with pneumonia.”

“At least I had to foresight to take off my clothes and bring some furs along,” Hiccup countered, nodding toward his clothing and furs piled next to Toothless who was catching a nap. Sluether was lying next to him.

“So you’re naked?” Dagur asked, raising a curious brow. When Hiccup gave him a horrified look he couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t look so scared, I’ve seen your scrawny freckled butt enough times growing up. Might not be so scrawny now but still freckled and pale as the moon, no doubt. It’s like you hide from the sun.”

“Some of us are not as comfortable with our bodies as others.”

Dagur hummed to himself. “Don’t know why you’re so uncomfortable. You got nothing to be ashamed of.”

Hiccup stared at him for a long time. He wasn’t sure if it was a real compliment or if Dagur was flirting with him again. Since learning of his betrothal to Astrid, Dagur had pretty much backed off or the flirting. He seemed to be a mix bag of emotions, both happy and conflicted by the news. Hiccup had been counting his lucky stars that Dagur had calmed down, but he wasn’t planning on pushing his luck. “Maybe you’re right. We both have work to do,” he announced. 

He called for Toothless, not quite comfortable baring his all to Dagur, and quickly slipped out of the water once he had a towel to wrap around his middle. He was used to getting in and out of the water with only one foot, and after a bit of hopping, he had his trousers back on as well as his prosthetic. Once he was standing on both legs, he pulled his heavy woolen tunic and hood over his head.

“What? You got comfortable in there?” he teased Dagur when he noticed the Berserker had yet to get out of the water. He adjusted his hood and pulled a heavy fur over his shoulders, thankful he had brought along two. He hated the cold and was prepared to huddle under two but the heat of the hot spring had chased the cold away. He didn’t feel it and probably won’t for a while, so he offered the spare to Dagur.

For a moment Dagur seemed to be in his own world, staring at Hiccup but seeming to see through him. Then he gave a long blink, as if just waking up, smiled softly, and climbed out of the water to take to pro-offered fur. He wrapped it tightly around himself.

“I think we should get you back to the Edge and in something dry,” Hiccup offered, almost wanting to laugh. Only a few minutes ago it was Dagur wanting to get him home and someplace warm. 

Funny how quickly things could change.

. . .

“I told you, you were going to make yourself sick,” Dagur reprimanded the next morning when he went to wake Hiccup up. Dagur was always the first up in the morning. Usually Astrid was the one who woke up Hiccup but when she came into the clubhouse and declared Hiccup had the flu, Dagur knew why and was not about to let his little brother off so easily. He had waited until the riders were busy with their various tasks before slipping into Hiccup’s hut to give him what for.

“Go away,” Hiccup groaned, hiding under a mound of heavy furs.

Dagur folded his arms across his chest and stared at the pile of furs that hid his brother somewhere underneath. “If there was a hot spring inside one of the huts you would have been find but out there, in the middle of winter, is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. It surpasses all the times you ever lied to me.”

Hiccup gave a little groan. “Shut up, Dagur,” he mumbled.

The Berserker gave a snort and glanced at Toothless. “You know this happens every year, right, T? It’s why I never attacked while he was sick. He’s no fun and all mopey. Absolutely no challenge whatsoever.”

“Thor, kill me now,” Hiccup whined.

“If I get sick because of you this truce is over,” Dagur warned, waving a finger at the lump hidden under the furs.

As luck would have it, Dagur had the sniffles and was feverish by nightfall. He immediately blamed Hiccup…but he wasn’t so quick to go back to war. Instead he set up camp in Hiccup’s hut, deeming himself Hiccup’s caretaker and refusing to admit he was starting to feel unwell. Besides it wasn’t better to confine a sick person to one hut rather than let a possible virus spread out. He refused to so much as entertain the idea that he could be sick and focused on how to make his temporary stay with Hiccup better on them both. Using Hiccup’s tools, he crafted a makeshift cot off the cold floor and close enough to Hiccup’s that he could keep an eye on his little brother, more concerned for the younger male than himself.

“Berserkers don’t get sick,” he told himself and anyone else who dared ask what he was doing. When someone like Heather or Astrid tried to argue he simply walked away, hauling whatever he thought he needed to Hiccup’s hut.

Astrid was not happy with this. She was constantly checking in on Hiccup and having to deal with Dagur was not one of her favourite things. Not that Dagur gave her much to worry about, it was simply the way he looked at Hiccup that unnerved her. Before, when they were at war there had been something deeply sexual in the way Dagur went after Hiccup. He claimed to be Hiccup’s brother yet looked at him like some jilted lover. Now the look was undefinable. Not sexual but not entirely brotherly, and still obsessive in a way that made a chill run down her spine when Hiccup was sick or hurt. But Dagur was trying. He stayed out of her way when she brought Hiccup some hot soup and checked his temperature. He always stayed close, always watched over her shoulder, but he kept the commentary limited and smiled often. He even asked if he could help in any way. That is until he caught whatever Hiccup had.

Berserkers don’t get sick turned to Berserkers get very sick.

By mid-afternoon the next day, Dagur could barely keep his head up and had a fever that made Hiccup’s look like a little flu bug in comparison. Dagur tried to keep up the façade that he was well and everyone should be worrying more about Hiccup. He even tried pushing Heather away when she tried to care for him. He was determined to prove he wasn’t sick and didn’t need looking after.

“In bed now!” Astrid bellowed when she caught the Berserker chief changing the cloth on Hiccup’s forehead rather than resting as he had been ordered to do countless times that day.

“I’m just…” Dagur started.

“Now!” Astrid ordered, pinning him with a glare that made the rest of the riders quake in their boots.

“I’m the…”

“I don’t care if you’re the King of the Wilderwest,” she snapped when he tried to pull rank. She placed the tray she had been carrying with two soups on Hiccup’s desk before storming toward Dagur and all but dragging him to his makeshift cot. “Now get to bed or next time I’ll chain you to it.”

“Astrid…” Hiccup started, blinking owlishly at her as he struggled to sit up. “He’s just trying to help.”

But the look she gave him instantly said to go back to sleep. She was in a mood and Hiccup had learned long ago that she could only be pushed so far before snapping. The problem was…the same applied to Dagur, and Hiccup didn’t know which would snap first. He shakily got out of bed and went to stop her but before he got more than two feet, Dagur had him and he was forced back to bed. Astrid didn’t reprimand the Berserker this time and if she did, she was pretty much ignored. Dagur had gone into “Big Brother mode” as Heather called it, and was not about to relent, even to Astrid.

Late that night when the flu hit Dagur at full force and he had no choice but to lie down as chills raked his body. He still tried to deny he was sick, still tried to care for Hiccup who was starting to come out of it. When the chills became too much and no amount of heavy furs could keep him warm; he did what he thought was the most logical thing to do…he climbed into bed next to his brother who was warm and soft and cuddly.

Hiccup was not impressed. Dagur may have had the chills but his body was burning hot and Hiccup was sure lying next to one another was wrong on every level. But Dagur would not be deterred. He wrapped his thick arms around Hiccup’s middle and held him tightly, his face buried against the back of his neck, and breathe hot against his ear. It was reminiscent of when they were little and Dagur would snuggle against him for whatever reason, usually after they had a spat and he was trying to apologize in his own deranged way. But Dagur was shivering from the cold and Hiccup was sweating half to death. There was no even medium and when Astrid came to check on them Hiccup was sure all hell would break loose. 

She wasn’t happy, that was for sure. When she came with the evening meal she was taken back by the sight of Dagur pressed against Hiccup’s back, fast asleep and shivering so out of control that his teeth were chattering. By then Hiccup had given up all hope of escape and instead tried to sleep the best he could.

“Is he..?” Astrid asked, a hint of fear and disgust in her voice.

“He’s just sick,” Hiccup assured before frowning at the unworded look of scepticism on her lovely face. “He’s trying to stay warm.”

“He can do that in his own bed,” she retorted. With a sigh she placed the tray on his desk then returned to the bed. “Dagur, get up,” she ordered, grabbing one of his large arms and pulling it off Hiccup. “Time to get back in your own bed before you make Hiccup sicker than he is.”

Normally she would have little trouble handling Dagur. She was one of the few riders that could take Dagur own without much of an issue, but that was when he was awake and lively. Being dead to world and burning with fever made him near impossible to move. Astrid gave up. Short of shoving him off the bed and onto the floor, which wouldn’t have helped matters, there was little she could do.

She gave an annoyed growl. “Are you okay like this?” she asked Hiccup.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured, but he couldn’t eat. His stomach felt empty but the mere smell of food made him feel even worse. He settled for a sip of water and a cool cloth to his head. Astrid was sure to place one of Dagur’s as well.

That night Astrid stood guard over the two, not trusting Dagur with her betrothed.

She wasn’t alone. Toothless was watching the two with curiosity, but knowing his Hiccup was sick and Dagur wasn’t much better, he ended up lumbering over to the bed and flopping his head on both of them.

“Toothless!” Hiccup whined. “It’s too hot!”

And it was. Hiccup began sweating from the increased heat from his dragon, but it had one huge benefit; Dagur stopped shivering. When Dagur stopped shivering he stopped holding Hiccup so tight. His labored breathing became steady and he fell into a deeper, more relaxed sleep. And so did Hiccup. But it wasn’t enough to make Dagur go back to his own cot. Astrid needed backup, but the sad truth was that most of the riders were still scared of Dagur, even if he was no longer their enemy and had worked hard to become their friend.

“He’s not getting better,” Dagur murmured when he awoke to Hiccup being asleep in his arms. He noticed the sweat beading on his brother’s forehead and used the edge of a fur to wipe it away.

Astrid gave an amused laugh. “I wonder why. He’s trapped between two living furnaces.” But she didn’t tell Dagur to go to his own bed this time. Dagur was pale and maybe a little green around the edges. He gave Astrid a confused look before slumping back down next to Hiccup. Astrid shook her head and replaced the cloth on Hiccup’s head before placing a fresh one on Dagur’s. “You think you can eat?” she asked, surprising Dagur.

He stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. “Don’t worry about me. He’s the one sick.”

A rare tender smile lit her face as she met Dagur’s gaze. “You’re both sick,” she told him as she adjusted the furs over both boys. When he went to object and give his usual retort about Berserkers never getting sick, she shot him a glare that silenced him. “When I come back you’re both eating something, even if I have to tie you to post and spoon feed you.”

A chuckle escaped Dagur and he grasped her hand. “Thank you,” he said in a voice filled with admiration. 

She gave him a curious look, not used to hearing such a thing from Dagur.

“For being there for my brother…for being the one he fell in love with and taking care of him for me,” he explained. “I’ve been a horrible brother but I’m trying to make it better now, I promise.”

“I know.” She squeezed his hand in return before standing and attending to her duties around the Edge.

She wasn’t kidding about tying him to a post and spooning feeding him if necessary. Thankfully it didn’t quite come to that. It was with sheer will power that either he or Hiccup was able to sit up long enough to eat the broth Astrid brought them and then they slept the majority of the day away. If Astrid was busy Fishlegs would check in on them, or Snotlout or even the Twins. Although the Twins tended to get annoying really fast.

“You’d think as a chief he would have gotten himself some new clothes by now,” Ruffnut mused, rubbing something warm and minty smelling over Dagur’s back. “I mean the armor is cool and probably expensive…and he did manage to get a decent pair of boots but…”

“Go away,” Dagur murmured before hiding his face in Hiccup’s hair.

Tuffnut clucked his tongue. “I think the bigger issue is finding him a new teddy. That one is looking a might bit worn out from being squeezed so tight.”

“Tuffnut, can you please leave already,” Hiccup muttered.

“And testy, very testy,” Tuffnut responded.

By the third day of the flu, Dagur thought he was going to die. He felt ten times worse than he had when he first climbed into bed with Hiccup, and his brother was wiggling even more than before, rubbing against him in a way that at one time would have been arousing but was now annoying more than anything. Dagur would have let him go if the chills hadn’t returned and Toothless hadn’t disappeared to do dragon stuff.

“Dagur, let me go,” Hiccup whined, trying to push away the Berserker’s arms but not getting anywhere. Dagur only tightened his grip and fought back a cough that tickled his throat.

“Dagur, let Hiccup go, now,” a deep stern voice demanded.

It was almost like magic. One moment Dagur was squeezing Hiccup tightly, the next he opened his arms wide at the sound of Stoick’s the Vast’s voice. He grumbled under his breath when he felt Hiccup being lifted out of the bed and cracked his eyes open enough to see the Hooligan chief carry Hiccup over to what was supposed to be Dagur’s cot and tuck him under the covers where Astrid waited to tend to him. Dagur gave a small whimper at the loss of heat. Hiccup was so warm and snuggly and…

His brows rose as Stoick came back and began checking him over. “What are you…”

“Gothi gave me some medicine for you boys. You should be fine in a day or two,” Stoick explained as he helped Dagur sit up gave him some sickly sweet concoction. “Now I want you to eat, even if just a little.”

“I’m not hungry,” Dagur objected, but his stomach rumbled treacherously. Stoick gave him a look that was far too fatherly for his liking. “Fine,” he conceded after a moment, but he wouldn’t let Stoick spoon feed him. 

It took only a few spoonfuls to realize that yes, he was indeed hungry and downed the bowl quicker than he should have. It pleasantly warmed his insides. Once he was done that and a steaming cup of tea, he promptly fell asleep again. Stoick stayed and took care of both him and Hiccup. Dagur found himself regretting the time he kidnapped and threatened to kill Stoick in order to capture Hiccup and Toothless. He may have been a stupid kid at the time but he couldn’t imagine his life without them now. He leaned into the man’s warmth, remembering the way his father used to care for him and ended up sobbing for the first time in years. Tears streamed down his cheeks. Tears for the way he had discarded his sister when she was just a little girl, for not searching for his father when he went missing and taking control of the Berserkers by proclaiming he had killed his father, for not giving Hiccup a chance to explain why he had lied about training dragons, for kidnapping and threatening Stoick who in many ways had been like an uncle to him, for trying to take Toothless from Hiccup, for every hurt that befell Hiccup and his friends because of him. He cried because he didn’t know how to fix it even though he had been forgiven for his past mistakes. He cried because he feared at any moment he might screw up and be cast away. And through it all Stoick stayed and rubbed his back and spoke soothingly to him.

His fever broke at some point in the wee hours of the next morning. Dagur awoke feeling physically and mentally exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept at all. The first thing he noticed was Hiccup was gone and panic struck him. He sat up quickly and fought back a wave of nausea. “Hiccup?” he called, unable to control the fright in his voice. Hiccup was sick, he shouldn’t be up and about. “Hic-”

“Hey…whoa…” Hiccup soothed, crossing the room where a cool bucket of water sat. He smiled brightly at Dagur, looking far better than he had in days. He gently pressed a cool hand to Dagur’s forehead.

“What are you doing? You should be in bed,” Dagur reprimanded, catching Hiccup’s wrist. “You’ve been sick.”

Hiccup laughed. “It was just a cold. I’m fine now,” he assured, pulling his hand away with surprising ease. “You on the other hand have been out of it for days. How do you feel?”

“Like Astrid drop kicked me then Heather decided to join in.”

Hiccup’s laugh was like music. Dagur smiled at the sound. “Being sick can do that.”

Dagur frowned. “Berserkers don’t get sick.”

“Huh uh…” the younger male hummed. “You might want to tell that to the rest of the Berserkers. According to Heather at least four people are down with this flu. Gothi’s there helping them.”

“Oh…”

Hiccup’s hand moved from Dagur’s forehead to his shoulder. “Thankfully for you, we caught yours in time.”

“I just caught your cold,” Dagur retorted, a little of his old self coming through. “I told you not to lunge around in that hot spring.”

Hiccup’s brows furrowed. “At least I was smart enough to take off my clothes first.”

“A lot of good that did you.”

“My cold is an annual thing. I don’t purposely get sick.”

“I got sick because of you.”

“No one told you to jump in the hot spring.”

Dagur frowned. “You’re impossible!”

“That was my thought about you.”

The Berserker chief pursed his lips and bit his tongue from continuing the foolish argument. It was bound to lead to a fight and he didn’t want to fight Hiccup, not anymore. He had fought hard to end their war and prove he could be trusted. Snapping at Hiccup over something as foolish as a cold was just plain stupid. He silently counted to ten in his head and took deep breaths. Maybe he should just go back to sleep.

“Thank you,” Hiccup suddenly said as he sat next to Dagur.

Startled, Dagur glanced at him in disbelief. “For what?”

“Trying to take care of me while I was sick,” Hiccup explained. He smiled meekly at Dagur. “Astrid told me how you kept checking on me and then made a cot so you could stay with me.” He gave a laugh. “You kind of freaked her out by climbing into bed with me.”

Dagur shrugged. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause trouble between you two.”

Hiccup shook his head. “You didn’t. You just took her by surprise. You know, with the whole obsessing over me thing she sort of thought you were trying to do something else.”

Understanding hit Dagur and his cheeks lit up bright red. “I guess I can see her anxiety but…she does know we’re brothers, right? I would never…maybe if we were still enemies and I was a little more deranged or you and her weren’t together and you were into that type of thing…ever do something like that to you.”

Hiccup stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. “Anyways…thanks.”

Dagur nodded. “You, too. I never had anyone take care of me before. Between Astrid and Stoick, I finally felt as if I belong here.”

That smile returned to Hiccup’s face. “You do,” he assured. He stood up and gestured to a bundle on his desk. “If you’re feeling up to it I brought some food from the clubhouse, and the twins made you some new clothes. They actually went to the Northern Market to buy the material and Snotlout helped them sew it, so I know the seams are tight.”

“What?” Dagur asked in shock. He stood, he legs shaking from days of sleeping, and slowly walked toward his brother. “They made this…for me?”

“Yeah,” Hiccup assured.

Tears stung at the corners of Dagur’s eyes but he held them in check. “No one ever made anything for me before…not since I was a kid.” He ran his fingers over the bundle of fabric as if it was something sacred.

Hiccup squeezed his shoulder. “You’re one of us now, Dagur. We take care of our own, no matter how sick you get or what you need.”

Dagur fought back a happy sob. Maybe getting sick now and then wasn’t such a bad thing if he had friends like the riders to care for him. No, not friends….family. The riders, each and every one of them were now his family. And family protects their own.

fin


End file.
